This week I was reminded of why I need to get my ass in gear and make some more goddamn money. Oh sure, it would be good for all sorts of reasons (retirement...what's that? Safety net...uh, no thanks, I guess). But the main reason is for stuff like PICA's TBA Festival (that's Portland Institute of... Continue Reading →
week forty-three: under the bridge
I've never been in the loop. As far as new and local music goes, even in my twenties I was pretty clueless. I had friends that were regulars at Satyricon and La Luna and where else? See, I don't even know where else. I love music. I'm deeply moved by music, but I've never been... Continue Reading →
week eight: 100 guitars, 1000 miles
Almost no one has heard 100 guitars play together, all at once. And I'm pretty sure no one has taken a bus to Seattle, a cab to SeaTac, a plane to SFO, BART to a San Francisco hotel then BART to Richmond, then a cab to The Craneway Pavilion in order to see 100 guitars... Continue Reading →
week two: kronos makes me cry
I was once the bored kid staring at the ornate ceiling of the symphony. All that scroll and gold leaf and the fact that I was in a dress, let me know that this was a special occasion. Not everyone got to sit in a velvet seat and listen to a symphony. But I didn't... Continue Reading →
Tracy Burkholder 